The Sheikh's Convenient Bride

“Forget Hakim.” Caz eased Megan down against the pillows. “Just think about me. About this.” He touched his lips to hers, softly, then with growing passion. When he drew back, he knew he couldn’t keep the promise he’d made to send her home. He wanted her here, in his arms, in his bed. He wanted to argue with her, laugh with her, share his days and nights with her for as long as fate would permit. “Megan.” He took a deep breath. “I know I said I’d send you home as soon as we return to my palace, but…”

“But?”

“But I’ve been thinking,” he said, hurrying the words, refusing to acknowledge the truth of what he felt spreading through his heart. “We still have work to do.”

“Work.” Her smile faltered. Why had she imagined he might talk about something else? “Yes, of course.”

“It’s been difficult for you, pretending to have no role in that work.”

“Yes.” She touched her hand to his cheek. “But I understand, Caz. It’s just the way things are here.”

“But that would all change, if I could introduce you as my wife.”

Megan’s heart fluttered. “What are you saying?”

“I know it’s asking a great deal, kalila. But if you’re willing to play the part a little longer…”

She stared into his face, thinking of all the reasons to say no, what he was asking her was out of the question, that it was impossible…

“Kalila.” His voice was low and rough with need. “Don’t leave me. Not yet.”

Their eyes met and held. Then Megan reached for him, brought his mouth down to hers and gave him her answer with her kiss.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

AT NOON, their party left Ahmet’s mountain stronghold.

They rode out, Caz on the same black stallion he’d ridden the day they’d arrived. Megan sat sidesaddle before him, secure in the circle of his arm. Ahmet and his men escorted them, whooping and cheering and waving their lances and rifles in the air.

“Tradition,” Caz whispered in answer to Megan’s inquiring look. “Ahmet honors us. I know it must seem bizarre, but—”

“It seems wonderful. It is wonderful.” She turned to him and laughed. “The fortress, the horses, the riders…it’s perfect.”

Caz felt some of the tension drain out of him. All this was strange to his wife. Would she regret that she’d married a man from such an alien culture? It was only temporary, of course, but still, he wanted her to be happy and not judge his people and his country too harshly.

“Do you really like it?”

“Oh, yes! The colors, the sounds…It’s magnificent.” She laughed again and tilted her head up to his. “Even Ahmet.”

Caz grinned. “I’ll tell him you said so.”

“Don’t you dare!”

“What will you offer for my silence?”

Her smile was sweetly wicked. “What would you like?”

He bent his head to hers again and told her. Color flooded her face; heat suffused her body.

“You drive a hard bargain, my lord,” she said softly, “but what can I do except agree?”

God, she was wonderful, this wife of his. Caz drew her back more closely against him.

“We have a deal,” he said softly. They rode in silence for a few minutes. Then he cleared his throat. “I thought—I was concerned you might find all this…barbaric.”

“I guess I might have, not too long ago,” she said, with the kind of honesty he’d come to expect from her. “But now—”

“Now?”